Nock 'Em Dead
by Dakoyone
Summary: They are both skilled archers, but in the end, who will win fair maiden's kiss?


_A/N: Horrible pun, I know. This evil little thing spawned while I was typing out "The Trouble with Feline-sitters" and hasn't left me alone since. I gave myself a crash course on archery, and now my head hurts._

_Disclaimer: I'm sure neither Sebastian, Nathaniel, or Varric would appreciate my fondling of their respective ancestral bows and Bianca. _

Nock 'Em Dead

From the moment Nathaniel Howe and Sebastian Vael made eye contact in the bowels of the Deep Roads, trouble began brewing over the horizon. Both archers squeezed their hands into tight fists to hide their twitchy fingers as they assessed each other with sharp, calculating gazes. Varric was standing off to the side, his thumb stroking Bianca softly while he hummed under his breath, as if to soothe her of her sudden, restless energy in the presence of the two human archers.

Hawke was oblivious to the entire exchange, maintaining at least half of Nathaniel's attention by inquiring after his expedition. He responded as politely as he could while being typically cryptic as any Grey Warden...well, all but Anders, who would freely discuss Warden business at the drop of a hat.

Upon agreeing to work together, the group soon found themselves heading further into the cave system, where Nathaniel sensed a large concentration of darkspawn. As they fought through minor skirmishes along the way, Sebastian positioned himself to stand alongside the Warden.

"Tales of the Grey Wardens have always fascinated me," he said.

Nathaniel smirked, his gaze sliding over to the other man briefly before he drew back and released another deadly missile into the skull of a charging hurlock. "We are dedicated to our cause, serah, though our feats are often greatly exaggerated in the telling."

Sebastian released both an arrow and a drawn out sigh, "Indeed. I am afraid I find the legendary prowess of _certain_ individuals to be a bit...lacking."

The bow jerked suddenly as Nathaniel flinched in clear agitation, and Sebastian chuckled as the nocked arrow followed the motion and flew wide across the hall. The restraint he displayed, however - which was to say that he managed to fit another arrow, draw, and release _without _aiming at Sebastian - was admirable. Instead of turning down the path of meaningless aggression, Nathaniel straightened his stance, lending his posture a regal bearing befitting any noble, and inclined his head thoughtfully.

"Would you care to make a wager of it?"

Another of Sebastian's arrows embedded itself in the knee of a genlock, "Twenty silver..."

"...and a kiss from the lady," Hawke interrupted, throwing a glance back at them as she set a paralysis glyph in the path of several armored genlocks.

Perhaps not as oblivious as they initially thought...

"If you feel up to the challenge, that is," Sebastian shrugged, twirling an arrow casually between nimble fingers. He shot Hawke an annoyed look, but she only grinned and winked back at him.

A competitive gleam shone in Nathaniel's eye as he observed the exchange, "Serah, it would be my genuine pleasure."

Before the two could launch themselves fully into the fray, however, a single bolt sped past their heads into an opposing emissary, and as one they whipped around to see Varric striding towards them with his unique swagger. "Now, kind serahs, don't tell me you were going to start a party without inviting this little lady. You wouldn't want to break Bianca's heart now, would you?"

Sebastian bowed, "Apologies, lady. If you'll grant us the honor of leading the game...?"

The fight in the large cavern was intense. Even Hawke had trouble with healing her companions, though really...would it _kill_ them to keep still for just a moment while she cast? Maker's breath...

The human rogues darted skillfully between opponents, their footwork light and their steps deliberate as they alternated between range and melee, loosing arrow after arrow before pivoting and drawing a sharp blade across an opponent's vital point, only to bring the bow up again in a series of practiced movements. Varric lingered behind them, sharing a private dance with his own revered lady, drawing his loving hands down her bow and murmuring gentle nothings against her back as she delivered to him her sweet release again and again. It was such an intimate act that one could not watch for long without squirming uncomfortably.

More and more darkspawn burst forth from opposite ends of the hall: genlocks, hurlocks, and ogres alike. It was absolute chaos, and soon even the friendly competition was momentarily forgotten beneath basic survival instinct. Breathing was suddenly less important than dodging and striking. Stamina drained at an alarming pace. Despite the chaos, Hawke and her companions remained focused, taking great care not to expose themselves in any way to the Taint. On one occasion, Nathaniel had even shoved his fellow archer out of the path of a wildly swung greataxe, which had nicked him across the brow instead. Seasoned fighters though they were, they were not Grey Wardens. Even the smallest drop of corruption could mean their deaths.

The battle drew on longer. Hawke felt herself begin to panic as she felt only two bottles of lyrium left in her pack. With a grimace, she tossed one back and threw the empty vial forward, accelerating its momentum even more with a carefully aimed Force spell, until it impacted and shattered in the face of an ogre. Upon recovering from the blow, the ogre released an enraged bellow before leaning forward to charge her.

"_Hawke_!"

Sebastian hastily nocked another arrow, trusting Varric at his back, but just before he could release a shot, another arrow - one with a reed shaft and crimson fletching - whistled past his ear and struck between the ogre's gaping jaws and up through its skull. The monster staggered, and Hawke scampered away as quickly as she could before throwing a last, reflexive fireball at it, which probably wasn't the brightest of her ideas. The stench of charred darkspawn was ghastly and would likely linger on her robes for weeks.

She blinked suddenly as a cloaked and hooded figure joined their deadly dance, taking point at her back with daggers drawn and at the ready. With the fresh rogue added to their numbers, the odds were once again in their favor. The stranger moved with a feline grace that the others could only ever hope to match, skillfully dodging and maneuvering behind opponents and slitting throats with a skill that would rival even the best of the Antivan Crows. Then the bow was drawn, and all three of Hawke's bowmen each took a moment to stop and stare at the prowess displayed. Steady arms moved independently of the archer's sight, landing precise, critical blows while eyes scanned and tracked the paths of two - no, _three_ more opponents, killing them swiftly in succession.

Soon after, the last of the darkspawn fell at Hawke's feet, and Nathaniel stretched out his Warden's senses, "Incredible. I don't sense any more darkspawn at all in this area. We've cleared it...completely."

Hawke sighed in relief but could do little else as an arm suddenly wrapped itself around her waist, and she soon found herself pressed against a slender body. A slender, curvy body. With _very _feminine curves. Her surprised squeak was swallowed by the gentle press of soft lips with a bare hint of tongue, the faint perfume of lavender filling and soothing all of her senses.

The men and dwarf stood gaping.

The woman (for it was most certainly a woman) withdrew with a breath of melodic laughter, throwing back her hood to reveal cropped, dark red locks and a pair of grey eyes twinkling with mirth and mischief. "I was owed a kiss from the lady, no?" she smiled cheekily, her accent unmistakably Orlesian.

Varric let his eyes wander across the hall, and sure enough, there seemed to be more red feathered arrows than either his bolts or the combined number of arrows from the two noblemen. Certainly many darkspawn fell to melee weapons as well, but really...who counts that?

"Si-Sister Leliana?" Hawke stood frozen in place.

The person in question blinked at Kirkwall's Champion before she clapped her hands in recognition, "Ahh, yes. I remember you from Lothering!"

From beside him, Varric heard Nathaniel groan. "Great. Beaten by a _bard_," he muttered in a low voice. The dwarf coughed to conceal his laughter, and Sebastian tried and failed to suppress a grin, his shoulders shaking with mirth.

"What brings you to the Free Marches?" Hawke asked, strapping her staff securely across her back as she crouched down to loot the bodies.

"Ah, I am afraid that information is confidential," Leliana said, her tone apologetic, "though I'm fairly certain you'll know soon enough." Now it was Hawke's turn to blink at Leliana, but the bard revealed nothing more.

Leliana sighed and turned to collect her arrows. "It certainly has been a while since I've fought this many darkspawn at once," she chuckled mirthlessly. Hawke frowned at the heavy set of the rogue's shoulders, a posture of grief she herself was all too familiar with. "I don't miss it."

She wanted to say something...anything, but Leliana turned to face her once more, a too bright smile drawn tightly across her face. "Well then, I should be off. It was certainly a...pleasure meeting you, Champion," she said with a flirtatious smirk. With a respectful, but also somewhat vain, bow toward the three gentlemen, she turned away, disappearing into the shadows of the halls.

Nathaniel was diligently counting corpses the entire time. After Leliana left their party, he wandered over to Sebastian's side and nudged his elbow meaningfully. The prince heaved a sigh before fishing out his coinpurse, angrily reminding himself of reasons why he really should quit gambling.

End.

_A/N: The Hawkeye vibe is strong in this story. Also, a Seeker of Truth Leliana may be, but she's still a bard through and through. _


End file.
